


Dear Laurel

by cassassin



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Prison Girlfriend Nora Darhk, Nippleless Gary, and Cute-as-a-button Mona Wu, i'm emo now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassassin/pseuds/cassassin
Summary: You have 34 unread email(s).





	Dear Laurel

Dear Laurel,

Hey sis, hope the skies have been treating you and dad well. Sorry I haven’t been writing as of late, it turns out that travelling through space and time with a bunch of children is no joke. The Legends and I have been kicking magical ass lately, beating up drugged-up unicorns and a massive Tagumo (that’s a huge Japanese squid/kraken for you, men have wild imaginations). Oh, and a Chucky rip-off tried to get stabby with me in New Orleans in 1856.

The funny thing is that the hardest part about time-travelling isn’t the anachronisms, but it’s living with these weirdos. Do you know what it’s like to share a kitchen space with Mick Rory? God awful — half of the food fabrication history just consists of Budweiser. _Budweiser_ . You have an artificial consciousness from the future to fabricate you anything you want and you ask for _Budweiser_? I might have to rescind his spot as a Legend because of that but Gideon didn’t think it was a good enough reason. In my opinion, Mick is on thin fucking ice.

Remember that one time I caught you and Ollie drinking beers in the attic, and then I made you give me one so I wouldn’t rat you out to dad? That watered down booze tasted better than Budweiser. I still can’t believe 15-year-old trust-fund baby Oliver Queen got a fake and bought cheap beer. Don’t rich kids get away with everything? You could’ve asked him for wine made specifically with grapes from the south of France and he totally would’ve followed through.

Hm, I wonder what Oliver’s up to now.

Speaking of Ollie, a mutual friend of ours recently joined the crew. I think you know him best as the person who restored my soul — alarmingly British, incredibly conceited, and a huge pain in the ass? Yup, John’s back in my life and doing naked yoga in the library. He’s constantly giving Mick a hard time, which makes me wonder if he has a death wish or a crush. It’s a developing plot, so I’ll keep you updated in future letters.

We also took in another English stray; her name’s Charlie and she’s an Amaya lookalike. I guess I should say exact replication of her physical appearance (the butt included) since she’s a shapeshifter, but John stripped her of her mojo so she’s stuck as British Amaya if she regularly snorted cocaine.

Although Charlie’s growing into her own person, it’s still jarring to see Amaya’s face walking around the Waverider. I don’t know what I would do if Charlie had picked you as her skin, but I think I’m already desensitized since Ollie seems to have a closet full of Laurels from other Earths hidden somewhere in Star City.

Sorry, bad joke. You know you’re the only Laurel Lance in my eye. By the way, if you see a Sara doppelgänger from Earth-X in Lance heaven, could you take care of her? She’s had it pretty rough.

I’ve been keeping tabs on Mom and send her a postcard every week. Well, technically Gideon is, since she’s better at keeping track of the calendar than someone who’s travelling back and forth in time. Mom thinks I’m still in New Orleans, so it might be time for another greeting card.

Mom is doing well. She finally got tenure at Central City University, which means out of the family, I’m still the only one without job security, health insurance, or a stable income. Scratch that — any income at all. Ironically, time-travelling doesn’t give you any time at all to think about the future.

I’ve been working on living in the present, or whatever present the Legends and I find ourselves in. Ava and I share an apartment now. It’s weird playing house while the world and time as we know it are falling apart, but nothing else really matters when I’m with her. Is that too Nicholas Sparks’ rom-com-made-into-a-movie cheesy? That girl is grooming me for a domesticated life and honestly, I don’t mind it at all. It’s nice to have a bed and hot meal to come home to.

You would’ve liked her a lot. She’s smart, ambitious, and a stickler for the rules. She chews me out whenever I leave an open carton of milk in our fridge, something you used to do when we were kids. I mostly do it now because it’s fun seeing her get all riled up over 2% milk.

Did I tell you about the time John turned Ava and I into kids so we could snuff out a striga? God, it was _so_ fun and it reminded me a lot of our own summer camp escapades. Remember when Tommy dared me to climb to the top of the tallest tree at the campsite, and you had to come get me down because I was afraid of heights? (A canary who’s afraid of heights, how ironic.) You could’ve yelled at me for being stubborn, but instead you pushed Tommy into the lake and called him a dumbass for challenging me.

I think the real reason as to why I felt so adamant in Ava having a good time at camp was because I spent so many of my summers with you. We used to get into the weirdest shits at camp, and even when we were old enough and became counselors, we still had a blast. I wanted to give Ava what you gave to me: a childhood. I think I succeeded in a way or another, because I still see Ava wearing the friendship/girlfriend bracelet I made for her.

(Or maybe she’s just whipped, but who am I to judge? I’m pretty whipped myself.)

Not to sound any alarms, but that mission kinda got me into thinking about starting a family. I can already hear you laughing and I can’t shove you, so can you tell dad to give you a quick push? I don’t know, Laurel. It’s a dumb thought, and I’ve got enough children on the Waverider as it is. I haven’t told Ava about it and I don’t think I ever will. A kid with a clone and an ex-assassin for parents? What’s she gonna learn in school, how to wear a suit and fix time while throwing knives at magical creatures?

You totally would’ve been the fun aunt, though, and it’s crazy because I thought that title would have been mine. I'd be kidnapping my niece or nephew to 1944 to learn about the Liberation of Paris, and then a quick jet to 1984 to watch _Prince_ perform Purple Rain live. Oh yeah, you bet your ass I’m imprinting good music taste on them at an early age.

Out of all of the Legends, I think the only person I would trust my kid with is Zari. Instinctively I thought I would've said Ray, but I think he'd drive her nuts since she already has Ava as one of her moms. Considering Zari could hold her own while simultaneously babysitting John and Charlie, I think she's fairly capable of handling a Lance kid.

Oh, something really funny just occurred to me. (Does whisky make you smarter? I’ve been drinking since about an hour ago.) If Ava and I adopted a kid in 2018, she’d be about the same age as 2018 Zari. Do you think they would’ve met in school or something? God, that’s so meta. Just for future reference: Sorry future Sharpe-Lance kid for kidnapping your best friend and taking her through time and space. I promise we’ll return her to you. Also, remember to clean your room.

Nate is doing fine. He’s working at the Time Bureau, half dealing with the Amaya-Charlie situation and half sorting through his daddy issues. I miss his history rants sometimes, but I think he’s happier at the Bureau right now. At least he has nippleless Gary and cute-as-a-button Mona (new child aboard the Waverider crew!) to keep him company.

Ray, Ray-Ray, Ray of sunshine Palmer. Good god, I think time-travelling might have fried that little brain of his. He’s committed more felonies in the last couple of time units (days and months don’t really fit here) and I’m starting to think that maybe Charlie shapeshifted into Ray and Amaya’s just pulling a drawn-out prank on us. He got a tattoo of a corgi _and_ he broke into the Time Bureau to see his prison girlfriend. Maybe his teenage rebellion phase is finally kicking in in his late-thirties, or its a midlife crisis and desperate cry for help.

I figured out why I keep giving you a rundown of each Legend in every letter — the Legends are a dysfunctional family, but they’re my dysfunctional family. You told me to be the light, but it turns out that these weirdos are my light. Probably not a holy mightier-than-thou angel light; its something more akin to a disco ball spinning aggressively at a Polish underground dance club. With them having my back and you watching over me, I don’t really have anything to be afraid of.

The whisky is definitely hitting me in full gear. I’m back in my apartment for the night and I think it’s time for me to join Ava in bed.

Fly high, sis. I miss and love you a lot. Promise I'll write soon.

Your sister,  
Sara

P.S. Do you think it’d be a good idea to get a dog with Ava? The Waverider (read: Gideon) is pet-friendly.


End file.
